I am fascinated by the moon, not in the sense that I want to learn all about it, fascinated by its beauty. I love to look up at it on a clear night in the country, where lights and sounds don’t distract me and I can get lost in this sphere whose shine pierces the darkness. I love to walk around the corner, barefoot of course, from my house and look up, ignoring the lights and sounds of the city, savoring something natural in a place where I am always surrounded by what is man-made. Full moons are my favorite, but I also enjoy the other phases.
Tonight, I was picking my son up from a friend’s house. It was late, dark and fairly quiet. As I drove I saw just a sliver of the moon, but it seemed I could see the outline of the rest. This has happened before and I have wondered…can I really see the rest or do I just imagine it, having become so familiar with the whole that even though only a sliver is visible I know the rest is there?As I pondered this, it reminded me of God. Sometimes circumstances have clouded my vision, making parts of His character hard to see. His sovereignty…is He really in control? His goodness…does He really have my best interest at heart? His omnipresence…Is He really right here, even when I can’t hear Him, when I can’t feel His presence? Just like I think I can see the whole moon, because I know the full moon enough, I can trust in all of who God is because I have seen the things that in some moments SEEM hidden. I have seen His sovereignty, experienced His goodness, and known His presence.
Hebrews 11:1 says, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Sometimes faith means the assurance of what we have never seen. Jesus spoke to His disciples about those who would believe without seeing. They physically walked and talked with Jesus, laughed with Him, cried with Him, ate with Him, saw and touched His nail scarred hands. We must believe without having ever seen. Sometimes though, faith isn’t assurance of what we have never seen, but just what we don’t see NOW. It is being able to see the outline of the full moon when only a crescent shines. It is knowing that all of God’s character is true when circumstances cloud our vision of some.
I love old hymns. As I drove tonight, only seeing a sliver of what I knew was still a whole moon, a verse from one of my favorites came to mind, and I quietly sang.
“Holy, holy, holy
Though the darkness hide Thee
Though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see”
On this side of heaven, we cannot see God in His fullness, in all of His glory. Take a look at this account of an encounter Moses had with God from Exodus.
“But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” Then the Lord said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen” (33:20-22).
Someday, when we reach heaven, with glorified and resurrected bodies, absent from darkness, no longer seeing with the eyes of sinful man, we will experience the fullness of God in all of His glory. Until then, we see a sliver, and trust in the wholeness. This is faith! Sometimes we see even less than the sliver we are able, but because of what we have seen and known before, we can trust in what we do not see NOW. This is faith!
By Kristyn Woodworth at findingtheextrordinaryblog.wordpress.com